"I would burn the world for you" (OxO Closed)

"I know," Bel says. He knows that he won't be able to fight his father (he's too scared to) and he knows that Nico needs a few moments. Give Nico space, let him clear his mind, they'll cross a bridge once they're both ready. Distance, the perfect way to allow anyone to calm down. Bel's plenty versed in giving people their space. He watches the back of Nico's neck for a moment before turning back to Cassian with a somber, close-lipped smile. "I look forward to meeting your leader. Perhaps we'll be able to figure something out between us."

Truth be told, his siblings won't allow such a sudden and abrupt change in power. Miran's been waiting for his throne since he was a baby–their father too stubborn to pass from natural causes or have enough grace to retire. Val and Treya like the resources, the riches, the ability to have anything instantly at their fingertips–and Bel would be a hypocrite and a liar if he said he didn't also enjoy it. The idea of… multiple people wanting Bel dead doesn't sit well with him. It wouldn't sit well with anybody. Even with their current rift, Bel still doubts that Nico would allow anything to happen to him. Nico did promise, and Bel knows the man isn't a liar.

"I didn't plan on doing so," Bel replies about the scars. Bel sometimes wonders if they forget that Bel's a prince, raised with the best manners and etiquette classes in the kingdom. Even if his alleged false princehood is true, it doesn't change the fact that Bel's polite in the face of strangers. Mentally, Bel tries to imagine what this leader could look like. Large, hulking, scars across every inch of his body… He'll likely tower over Bel and try to make him feel small and insignificant–maybe? No. Bel's imagination is getting away from him.

"Your leader will tell me everything when he's ready." Bel may be technically a prisoner, but if anything, he feels more of an ambassador–somebody sent to find a proper armistice between warring nations. "And if he doesn't choose to tell me then that's fine. It's his business and not mine, my only business regards my family and the kingdom." The kingdom, not his. It's not Bel's. He thought it was his father's and promised to his brother, but now that even seems to be wrong.

"Thank you, Cassian." Bel nods. "I do appreciate what you've told me." Now it's time for Bel to digest it all in silence. He's so used to silence, to taking everything in for himself. Being around these five men is the most consistent interaction he's had in a decade. Not to mention this whole… thing he has with Nico. Bel bites at his lip, staring at the back of his blond head. There's no way his singular comment could have messed up everything that they had accumulated, right? Like what Cassian said, give Nico some space and it'll wash over–hopefully.

(timeskip soon? maybe to night so Bel and Nico can talk out their feelings like adults alkdsfj)

With the setting sun comes Bel's nightly uneasiness. Nico signals to stop after nearly fourteen hours of straight riding. The bed rolls get unfurled, the fire gets lit, and everyone begins to settle down for the night. After moving his mandolin from Cassian's bag to his own, Bel decides to bite the sword and approach Nico. At first, he doesn't say anything as he sits beside the blond. Bel looks at the sky, the stars, then to the trees around him, and finally settles on staring into the fire.

"I'm sorry," Bel says eventually, quietly to only be heard between them. "You were… You were talking about the potential deaths of the only people I had ever carried about and I got… defensive and I said something I shouldn't have." He takes a breath, only realizing that he had been borderline rambling. "I'm sorry."

The near immediate forgiveness strikes Bel as odd. No sort of argument or violence or even intense emotion–just… forgiveness. Quickly, Bel recovers from his momentary shock and he squeezes Nico's hand in return. Nico keeps telling him that Bel will finally hear everything when they arrive at his home. "How far is your home?" He asks. "I just want to know how many more nights I'll have to sleep on the ground." He tries to offer a smile, something to break the ice Bel can feel between them.

"We can talk about something else," Bel suggests. He's missed Nico's companionship through the day. The unpacked saddle bag beside his bed roll catches his attention. There's his mandolin and his book.

A week. That should be fine. Bel's already braved many nights out in the dangerous woods and one night in a safe and exhilarating inn. Nico brings Bel's hand up for a soft kiss and the prince's shoulders sag in relief almost instantly. They're back to normal. Hopefully. With a sigh, Bel drops his head onto Nico's shoulder and closes his eyes.

After a long breath, he starts. "I have a book, it was the one I was allowed to bring with me." Even though it's hidden away in Bel's saddlebag, he can see it clearly behind his eyelids. A soft sage green with a golden garden etched into the cover. The spine is worn and fraying at the tops, the fabric threads hanging off the binding. On the first of the yellowed pages is a flourishing signature in black ink–Dionn Irkevska, Bel's mother before she was married into Araniel. "It was my mother's when she was a girl. She bought it when she snuck off to the town when she was ten."

At the invitation, Bel carefully moves out of Nico's touch and takes the few steps to his saddlebag. He has to remove his mandolin first to get to it. Looking at the fine, untuned strings Bel realizes exactly just how much he's missed playing it. Perhaps when they're at another village he can risk plucking a few strings. The last thing he wants is to attract a monster or hoard of bandits.

Bel's quick to return to Nico's side, sitting right up against him as he showcases the small novel. "It's a set of three short stories, all about the same young girl who lives at three different homes in three different kingdoms. In the first two, she's seven and nine, and in the third one she turns fourteen and falls in love with the local baker's son." Bel's nose curls at the sticky romanticism. "It's… very sappy, but my mother read it to me when I was little, so I guess there's a sentimental aspect to it."

The thought of reading out loud sounds horrifying, to say the absolute least. His tutors would chastise him for stumbling over words and skipping lines and forgetting to pause in the correct places–but if Nico asked for it, Bel would be happy to oblige. "I could," Bel drops his voice to a step above a whisper. "I wouldn't wish to bother the others though." So Bel will read quietly with his head upon Nico's shoulder in the light of the fire.

Carefully, Bel turns the cover and stares at the first page–the page with his mother's signature. Bel rubs his thumb over it, as if to feel her through the page, before moving on to the first story. Quietly, Bel begins to read off the first lines, the ones that he's read so many times in the past. It's practically engraved in his brain as he reads softly, flipping through the age-yellowed pages and following the young heroine through her first adventures of life.

The book is relatively small and meant for a much younger reader than Bel. Soon enough, the first short story is finished and Bel closes the book and suppresses a yawn. He knows that Nico hasn't been listening to the words and is focusing on him instead. Curled against Nico and in the light of the campfire, Bel can feel himself growing sleepier and sleepier. Tonight's sleep won't be anything compared to his rest the night before, but at least it's still beside Nico.

"You're on first watch?" Bel asks, tilting his nose to poke at Nico's chin. The watches split between five men are usually short, Bels sure he could stay awake long enough with Nico before they both go off to sleep.

With the night setting in, Bel finds his usual fear is subdued, especially in the arms of Nico. He trusts that nothing will attack them, but anything could happen. Perhaps if it was an inhuman monster, Bel would find it less taxing to kill it rather than a real human. He's no stranger to hunting animals–why should monsters be different?

"Make sure nothing kills us," Bel says sleepily, a small smile on his face. He sets his book down to his side and leans into Nico even more. He yawns again and blinks a few times, feeling sleep begin to wash over him. "I'll see you in the morning." With that, Bel relaxes and fades.

His sleep isn't dreamless that night. Bel dreams of the kingdom of Irgeven and his technical fiance that rules over it. Tacia–with her strawberry hair tied in a meticulous bun and her sunset dresses–watches over from her favorite balcony. She's wise, kind, and entirely distant from every other ruler on the continent. The dream is not one of action or nightmare, simply just a brief view into what could have been–Bel being a trophy husband for a powerful and benevolent queen. Tacia kept out of the war, fulfilling the former queen's wishes to stay neutral, that was until Bel's father suggested an alliance and promise of an Irgevian heir.

Bel wakes at the first sight of dawn, the noises of some of the men preparing for the day easily waking him. His dream weighs heavily in his mind. Bel had been worried for his siblings, but he never stopped to consider how Lady Tacia might react to the news of her missing fiance. Bel doesn't know her well enough to come to a solid conclusion.

He doesn't move yet, too content with Nico curled around him to move. He opens his eyes to look around, but closes them soon. Here's to yet another day of travel–an entire week until they're at Nico's home and Bel has to have a conversation and make a deal that will determine the fate of his kingdom and siblings.

Sitting up with Nico and then letting the man stand to tend to his duties. He rolls his bed mat and ties it to the back of Thicket. He flicks one last time through the book before sliding it into the same pocket as his mandolin. If he weren't going across the continent with a group of vagabonds, Bel would be going through his endless hobbies searching for something to do. Perhaps a little poetry or pottery, candlemaking or catering, archery or alchemy. Bel's unsure if he'll even enjoy horseback riding after all this. He feels bad for taxing the horses this much.

"Well, we should be on our way then?" He asks, mounting Thicket with ease, most of the pain from his abdomen and legs mostly eased with sleep.

(No i don't have anything planned lahfjsks timeskip is good. im good to go to when you have anything planned, if you dont have anything planned i can brew an idea or two (i have a couple already))

Bel has to laugh, just softly woth a shake of his head. "Yes I'm ecstatic to ride for another entire day." Bel has a pouch full if berries at his side, ones that he knows are fine and edible. They set out again, Bel briefly coughing into the crook of his elbow as the horses settle into a canter.

(got it hehe)

The day mostly passes without any significance. Bel rereads his mother's book, eats a few berries, and makes light conversation with Nico and the others. As the day wears on, Bel can sense something with Nico. He's tense, brooding, and clearly has something big on his mind. Bel sighs, knowing that he won't press the man for answers, but he can't help his rabid curiosity. "Are you okay?" Bel asks, lowering his voice and tapping Nico's leg with his foot. "You seem… burdened." He knows the others will be listening, but it doesn't hurt to at least try to give them a private conversation.

"Alright," Bel answers, taking Nico's word for it. "I'm here to listen." He offers a smile and turns away, to the road ahead. Another cough surfaces and Bel decides that he might as well die if he got sick on a road like this. He rarely gets sick. He's been sick three times in his life. Gods, he prays it's just a small scratch in his throat.

Shaking his head and taking a deep breath, they continue on their way, the next village only a few nights ahead.

(skip would be good)